


Liberation

by sailorgreywolf



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 11:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorgreywolf/pseuds/sailorgreywolf





	Liberation

Argentina was expecting to be faced with significant resistance when he brought his army across the Chilean border. From what the exiled commanders had told him, Chilean independence was not going as smoothly as they had hoped. They had neither the popular support nor the resources that they had initially counted on. He had driven all Spanish presence from his own country, and now he intended to do the same for Chile. 

He would not let someone he cared about suffer under the Spanish yoke. But, it had not been as difficult as he expected to at least make the initial advance; he suspected that they had just taken a route that avoided royalist strongholds for now.

He had not spent much time in his neighbor’s country and he found it absolutely breathtaking the way the Andes stretched into the sky. It was no wonder that Chile loved his own natural surroundings so much; he always spoke about his love for the mountains in his letters. He spoke of it with more love than even his own family. It seemed that his brothers exhausted him, but he could find solace in solitude and natural beauty. 

Argentina had a particularly sentimental letter folded in the pocket of his uniform against his chest. He had kept every single one of them, and they were under a chest in his bedroom. He loved being able to see the ways they had changed over time, and how Chile had shared more of himself piece by piece. The kind words, which laid firmly on the line between flirtation and friendly affection, were treasures to him, which he liked to keep as close as possible.

He continued towards the capital, though as he went the feeling of uneasiness grew. He hoped it would be so simple, but he didn’t trust Spain to let all of South America slip away. He knew that Spain had rarely even noticed him. In fact, his presence probably wouldn’t even be missed. But it mattered to him that Chile would not remain in Spanish control. 

He reached the capital with little trouble. It had already been liberated from the Spanish hold by a smaller force that had been sent ahead under the command of the Chilean leaders who had come to him requesting aid. He was struck by how beautiful it was. And there was the unbidden thought that Chile certainly reflected the beauty of his geography. 

Argentina rode up to the gate of what he guessed to be Chile’s house, then he dismounted and turned back to his commander and said, “Secure the city and make sure that there is no Spanish presence. I have a friend to visit.” 

He didn’t want them to wait as he went to visit Chile. He did not know how long he would spend away, and it was just as well that they functioned without him. He knew that military matters were better left to men with experience anyway.  
He could feel his heart beating nervously in his chest at the prospect of facing the man he had been writing letters to for years. But, it wasn’t a completely unpleasant feeling. It was exciting that they would finally have the chance to be at each other’s sides instead of being separated by an ocean.  

After carefully securing his horse, he pushed open the gate. The first thing he noticed was that Chile was standing outside the door with his eyes fixed on the gate and a knowing smile on his face. The sight made Argentina’s heart skip several beats. He had not had a chance to see the man in quite a while, and he had forgotten how the smile could make his knees feel weak. 

Chile was so striking; he had a face that gave the distinct impression of sharpness. It was like one could touch him and be cut by his edges.It was not a conventional beauty, neither soft nor inviting. But, his severity was unique, and had always drawn Argentina to him. 

Argentina wondered if Chile could see how hot his face felt, if it was showing through his skin. He hoped it was not, because he had no agency over it. Even if he wanted to hold his feelings inside, it would not be possible to hide them.

Chile stepped towards him and said, “My hero.” The tone in his voice didn’t have a trace of sarcasm. It made Argentina smile, and he couldn’t help himself from speeding up the last few steps between himself and Chile. He knew that a more savvy man would hide his anticipation, but he couldn’t help it. He was, at the very least, wise enough to stop just short of Chile instead of sweeping him up in his arms as he longed to.

Chile stood on his toes and planted a soft kiss on both of Argentina’s cheeks. He then put his hand on the taller man’s shoulder and said in his ear, “I’m so glad you’re here.”   
Argentina hadn’t been this close to the other in decades and he was having trouble thinking of coherent words to respond with. He managed only, “Me too.” 

He had so many questions about the state of the war, and Chile’s own calm in the face of impending independence. But in the cloud of reignited feeling, the strategic questions seemed entirely unimportant. 

Chile stepped back, and said, his voice softer that Argentina had ever heard it, “You should come in. You can rest.” For a man of so few words, his eyes spoke volumes. Argentina could see so much affection in them that he did not doubt that this trip had been well worth it.   
He nodded, and said, “I would really like that.”

Chile took him firmly by the hand and led him through the door. The contact surprised Argentina. It was neither polite nor conventional. But, he wasn’t going to complain for fear that pointing out how unorthodox it was would lead Chile to keep a tactful distance. 

hey walked only a short distance before Chile guided him to a couch, where they both sat. Argentina could guess at the intention, but he couldn’t be certain unless the Chilean said it. Otherwise, in his eagerness, he might be mistaking friendliness for something else. 

But, Chile did not let go of his hand once they sat. Argentina asked the only question he could bring to mind, “Has Spain given you any trouble?” 

He was concerned that Chile might be injured and hiding it from him. He could imagine that there might have been battles that he did not know about; he hadn’t received a letter from Chile in weeks, so he had no idea what the situation might be.   
But the other shook his head and said, “I don’t think he even cares. I have dealt with his forces here, but it wasn’t difficult. I can fight well when I want to.” 

Argentina accepted this without question; there had been little evidence that Spain was taking the personal initiative in putting out the flames of rebellion. Something had to be holding Spain’s attention so that he wasn’t dealing with it, and the commanders in place were struggling under the wave of independence. Chile seemed to understand the underlying concern and he added, “I’m not hurt.”   
Argentina replied, “I’m so glad to hear that. I worried when I didn’t get another letter.” 

Chile’s hand tightened on his, which distracted Argentina from the memory of his worry, and the man said, “That’s so kind, but you don’t need to worry.” 

He reached up and put his other hand on the Argentine’s face, brushing back some of the dark curls in the process. Chile fixed his eyes on the other’s face, and his smile was soft. But his expression shifted as he noticed something. He said, amused, “You have dirt on your face.”   
Argentina attempted to explain it in the hope that his companion was not judging his lack of composure, “It was a long ride and I didn’t get a chance to-“   
Chile cut him off, “It’s alright. You’ve traveled and fought. Stay here.” 

He then stood, which meant his hand left Argentina’s. Argentina felt the break in contact like an ache in his chest. It had felt so right to have even that little contact. 

But, Chile was not gone long. He returned with a wet cloth in his hand and sat back down, and placed his hand comfortingly back on Argentina’s. 

Without a word of explanation, Chile leaned in and placed the cloth tenderly against the other man’s face. Argentina said, hoping to make progress towards being able to say what he felt, “Why did you write me so many letters?” 

They had only met a few times before Chile had left for the Spanish court with his brothers, and Argentina had not expected anything to come from it. The first letter had been a surprise, though it had been a simple greeting. He had been glad to send letters back. With time, they had gotten longer and sweeter, but it was still surprising every time a letter would appear addressed to him. He had assumed that Chile would soon find distractions in court and stop sending letters. 

But, they had been consistent until the independence movements had erupted across the continent. Argentina had never been able to completely explain them to himself, though he didn’t deny that they had been precious to him. 

Chile was silent for a moment, though his hand continued to move and wipe away the dirt on Argentina’s hairline. Then he finally said, “Your letters brought me comfort. I was so lonely at court, even though I had my brothers. But, I could write to you, and you would always understand.” 

He ran the cloth across the Argentine’s forehead and the soft touch felt so calming. Argentina hadn’t imagined how gentle the other could be, but he felt himself starting to melt. Chile continued talking, “I hoped that you would come to court one day, so I wouldn’t have to wait for your letters. When I had something to say to you, I could just say it.”

He paused the motion of his hand, with his palm against Argentina’s cheek. But, he said nothing else, so Argentina took it as his cue to speak again. He heard the tender tone in Chile’s usual quiet way of speaking and it made him feel the strength to be bolder. He said, “I would have liked that. But, Spain never really worried about me or wanted to keep me close.” 

Argentina did not want to dwell on his own thoughts or emotions about the man who had owned him, but very rarely payed him any mind. Spain had never brought him to court and had chosen to place him in the care of tutors. He had heard stories of intrigue from Chile through letters, and through gossip and hearsay. 

Part of him was glad not to have been placed in the middle of that scrutiny. He had always preferred the quiet life with his brothers. But, the idea of being close to Chile made court sound appealing for the first time. 

Argentina lapsed into silence while he thought about all the possibilities that were now long past. 

Chile pulled the cloth away from his face, the job had already been done and the pretense no longer gave him a reason to have his hand so familiarly on his friend’s cheek. But, his other hand was still resting on Argentina’s, and he made no attempt to move it. 

Slowly, Chile formed words that sounded distinctly like he was choosing them carefully, “In one of your poems you said I reminded you of the ocean.” 

Argentina remembered the exact poem; he had spent hours finding the right words to convey his feelings. He had sent it wrapped in blue ribbon and hoped that Chile understood what he meant. He said, attempting to explain why he had chosen that image, “Because you look so serene on the surface, but I believe that there is true power, strength, and beauty in your depths. I know there is so much that you keep to yourself.”

He took a deep breath when he realized how much he had said already. Argentina could feel the tension and affection in the air between them, but he understood that Chile was reserved and didn’t want to presume. 

Chile leaned closer, putting more of his weight on his hand as he did, and the pressure was comforting. He said, “I want to let you see. I trust you.” 

He was close enough now that Argentina could imagine if he leaned forward, their lips would touch. He could imagine it vividly, and the thought sent his heart racing again. He felt almost helpless to how strong his emotions were. He knew how deeply meaningful it was for Chile to offer him trust. He was well aware that the man rarely even let his brothers see his feelings.

Chile leaned even closer and said, “I want to show you something beautiful.” Argentina didn’t know what the other man could possibly be referring to, but he was not going to turn down the offer. He would take any openness that Chile was willing to give him; he knew the little pieces were rare.

He nodded. Chile smiled, and it was so deeply charming. It was so rare to see him smile, and it felt like a gift. He stood, but he did not release the contact between their hands. 

Argentina assumed that he wanted him to follow, so he stood and let Chile lead him by the hand. 

They walked into the bedroom, and Argentina immediately wondered if this had been a ruse to get him into the bedroom. But, he didn’t mind the thought. If Chile wanted that, then there would be no denying that the romantic feelings between them were not his own imaginings.

But, Chile was fixed on his goal. He walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. He stepped back and said, “I love this view. You can feel the power of the mountains.” 

The peaks beyond the window reached into a sky that was piercingly clear and blue. There was an undeniable majesty to it. 

Chile leaned against the taller man and said, his voice soft like he was telling a secret, “When there are thunderstorms, I like to lie here and watch the lightning. It is awe inspiring.” He leaned his head against Argentina’s shoulder, and it felt like their bodies were meant to be together like this.

The doubts about Chile’s intentions were beginning to fade. It seemed impossible that all these little gestures of trust could not be just friendship. But, Argentina was used to the barely hidden flirtation in the letters, and he saw little of that between them now. He guessed that this softness was a layer below the bravado, and it was more sincere. 

He replied, “I would like to see that someday.” 

He felt Chile begin to entwine the fingers of their already clasped hands. Argentina felt a burning need to addressed the comfortable way they were drawing closer together He said, “Santi, is there something you want to tell me?”

He looked down and met the other’s eyes, and he could see all the uncertainty in them. He had not expected this vulnerability, not from a man who had almost been casual about his affections in his letters. 

Chile said, “Yes, but-“   
He trailed off and attempted to find the thread of his thoughts again. Argentina said, “You said so much in letters.”   
Chile responded, sounding strained, “Those were easy. I could spend hours finding the right words. But, this isn’t easy.”

Argentina brought his free hand up and put it against the other’s cheek. He intended it to be comforting, and to convey that there wasn’t a reason to hide his feelings. He said, as softly as he could, “You can say what you feel. It’s safe with me.” 

The new vulnerability in the look that Chile gave him made Argentina want to pull him into his arms and never let go so that no one could exploit that vulnerability.

Chile finally said, “I love you. I love you more than anything.” 

Argentina let out a soft sigh. He had hoped for this moment, but he had not thought it would happen. He was suddenly very aware of how their fingers were entwined and Chile’s weight was pressed comfortably against his side. He felt heat rise in his skin, but a pleasant one, like sitting next to a fire on a cold day. 

He said, hearing the emotion in the way his own voice quavered, “I love you, too.” He wondered if his hands were shaking from the rapid beat of his heart. 

Without waiting for another invitation, Chile leaned forward and connected their lips. Argentina felt every muscle in his body weaken. The kiss was light, still tentative and hoping for another sign of approval. 

Argentina tightened his hold on Chile’s hand, though it was difficult with their fingers intwined. He let out a low involuntary whine. The other pressed their lips even more firmly together while he put his free hand in Argentina’s hair. 

The kiss lasted for what felt like a blissful eternity. Argentina let go of his doubts and questions, and enjoy the moment. 

Chile pulled away and said, “Take me to bed.” Argentina took a breath to calm himself. He wanted to take the offer, but he wouldn’t cave to his base instincts so easily. 

He released his hand from the other’s and put both of his hands on Chile’s shoulders. He pushed him softly away, only enough to create the space so he could think clearly. He fixed his eyes on the shorter man, and he tried not to see the pain on the man’s face. He said, “Just a moment, Santi, then we can continue.”

He took another deep breath before he continued, hoping for some self control. He longed to accept the offer without a second thought, but he couldn’t allow it. Chile looked hurt, but Argentina hoped that it would be a brief pain. He said, still holding firm, “I want to know that this is special. I won’t let it be a night that we will only remember as one of many.” 

He hoped that Chile could understand him, but he didn’t know if he would share his convictions. But, he could not stand the thought that his first time would mean nothing in his lover’s mind. The Chilean man put his hand out and placed his hand against Argentina’s face, and said softly, “Of course, my love.” He leaned closer again as the Argentine let the strength out of his arms, and whispered, his voice like flowing honey, “Of course. I’ve never been with anyone else before.”

All of Argentina’s reservations melted away at the soft, sensual admission. In a single motion, he swept the other up into his arms. 

Chile let out an undignified squeak and  wrapped his arms around Argentina in an attempt to hold on. He looked absolutely adorable flustered, if not slightly offended at his own lack of composure. Argentina smiled at him as he laid the smaller man on the bed. 

Chile’s arms refused to release him. Instead, Chile used his position to pull him into another kiss. This one was deeper, full of the feelings they had both been holding back.   
Argentina pulled away for only a moment to take a breath. Chile said, drawing in deep breaths, “Juan, please.” 

That was the last piece of provocation that Argentina needed.

* * *

Argentina pulled the blankets securely around Chile’s bare shoulders. The man had draped the entirety of his lithe body around him. One of Chile’s hands was playing lazily with Argentina’s hair. 

Argentina spoke, as he put his hand on the bare skin left above the sheet, “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” But, Chile shook his head and smiled up at him encouragingly.   
He said, his fingers still twirling a piece of Argentina’s hair, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard that it always hurts a little the first time.” 

Argentina shook his head. He was certain that if he had only been a little more careful, he could have avoided it. He responded, “I thought that was just with women.”   
Chile replied, his tone surprisingly soothing, “Don’t worry. We will learn; I don’t want this to be our last time.” 

Argentina nodded, glad that his lover wanted more after the awkward way their first time had gone. There had been more than a few fumbling touches as they both attempted to figure out how to make love. It warmed him to think that the handsome young man laying against him was committed to staying with him. It was everything he had hoped for when they had first started to exchange letters. 

He said, “I think we will be able to spend much more time together once all this war is over.”   
Chile nodded silently and leaned his head against the other’s chest. 

Argentina said, “On that subject, you lied to me.” He ran one finger down a red line on Chile’s shoulder, which looked suspiciously like it had been caused by a sword. It was not the only one he had seen on his lover’s body, but it looked like the one that had been the deepest. 

Chile said, feigning ignorance, “What are you talking about?” Argentina suspected that Chile already knew perfectly well what he was talking about, but he was playing coy.   
He said, “You told me that it was easy for you to deal with the Spanish, but this should have healed by now if that were true.” 

The other bit his lower lip as though he was thinking about what to say. There were a couple seconds of silence before Chile finally said, “I succeeded at first, but the royalist forces were able to invade and reestablish control. I drove them out of the capital, but everything is far from stable.”

It was one of the most honest admissions Argentina had heard from him, but he could see how much Chile loathed to say it. He heard the man let out a long sigh before he said, “I am not going to lose again. Whatever I need to learn, I will do it.” 

Argentina squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder reassuringly and said, “You aren’t alone now. I will do whatever I can to help.” Chile looked up at him, his eyes full of affection. His lips curled up into a smile that set Argentina’s cheeks ablaze again.   
Chile said, “With the two of us, no one could stop us.” 

Though he loved the idea that they could be unbeatable together, Argentina still had his doubts. He voiced them, “If Spain ever chooses to command himself, it will be difficult.” 

Chile finally let himself let go of the lock of hair, which curled back into the mess that Argentina’s hair had become. The look on his face slipped back into a characteristic smirk. He said, “There is no chance of that while New Spain is still distracting him.”  

Argentina gasped before he could stop himself. This was entirely new information to him, as he had had no news about other colonies since he rebelled. He said quickly, “What?” 

Chile’s smirk remained firmly in place as he explained, “New Spain rebelled too. He wasn’t as loyal as he pretended. Spain won’t spend any time on anyone but his golden boy.”

Argentina’s mind slipped away from the present moment back to the handsome, ambitious young man he had met many years ago. He had been so different from the rumors, and there was a beating heart beneath all that pretense and court manner. He had caught glimpses of someone who did not deserve the reputation he had. Argentina couldn’t help but feel a sinking in his chest. He didn’t want to hear about Mexico’s failure in a war against Spain. It was more than a distraction; it was another man’s freedom at risk. 

He was drawn out of his train of thought when Chile said, “My brothers and I have a bet about how long he will last. We all thought it would be less than a year, but we were wrong. He isn’t the pampered house pet we all thought he was.” 

Argentina could have told him that much from the time he knew Mexico. The appearance of being a pampered prince was cultivated, not genuine. But, the idle gossip between Chile and his brothers cast an unfair judgement on Mexico, and he didn’t want to listen to anymore of it. He said firmly, “All of us have secrets, Santi. He might not be the person you think he is at all.” 

Chile made a movement that resembled a shrug, but it was hard to tell from that angle. He said, dismissively, “It does not matter. He will keep Spain occupied for long enough for us to deal with my problems here.”   
Argentina replied, affirming the promise he had already made, “We will free you. I promise.” 

Chile smiled again and said, “I hope I can finally meet your brothers once this is over.”   
He leaned closer, like he was hoping for another kiss. Argentina cupped his face lovingly and said, “And I hope that I get to meet yours too.” Then he pulled Chile into another soft kiss that made his heart flutter again.

When Chile pulled away again, he said, breathlessly, “I want to be with you forever.” It was such a beautiful sentence that Argentina could only stare at him for a couple tender seconds.  
He said, “Do you promise?”

It sounded childish as soon as he said it, but he wanted to be sure that the other hadn’t spoken the words on a momentary impulse. But, Chile looked at him with complete sincerity and said, with no hint of sarcasm, “I promise. Forever.” 

As they kissed again, it didn’t matter what challenges they would face the next day in the continued struggle for independence; in the moment, Argentina felt like they were just two men who were unified in their love. If he could hold onto the moment forever, he could be perfectly content.


End file.
